The First Generation
by Wakkomonkey9258
Summary: The Protogenoi are revered for their power and wisdom amongst the gods. Yet, they are still faced with constant problems and familial issues, mostly at the same time. Through it all, some will rise and grow stronger, and some will only sink into darkness.
1. Chaos

**I**

**CHAOS**

Not many had ever seen the creator of all that existed in person, and those that did usually found themselves groveling at their feet in light of Chaos' glory. After all, the very fabic of the universe was what made up Chaos' imposing form, the very energy that created existence strung about him like veins. Copied images of galaxies and planets, and quasars, and super clusters swirled about him, constantly switching positions as the universe and the bodies within shifted at an infintesimal rate. Pure, raw energy hung off him like skin. Power unimaginable even to the gods below radiated off him, more powerful than any possible force by an order of magnitude. He was Chaos, and that was reflected in his form. His body, if it could be called such a thing, shifted and twisted about into different shapes as the heavely bodies expanded or shrunk, disintegrated or blasted apart to form new life. He was power personified, the greatest being to ever exist. He was everything.

Idly, from atop the his high point in the heavens beyond those created by his distant offspring, he watched from a distance as the very universe tilted and expanded. Galaxies untouched by man's bemused fingers swirled about each other aimlessly amidst the plentiful stars that dotted the infinite blackness of space. Life of all kinds milled about on their respective planets and galaxies, some more advanced than others while many still shuffled about in the primordial muck they had yet to dig themselves out of. Many of them worshipped other gods that were somehow unlike him in some way, all with different descriptions and names and titles and legends behind them. Chaos felt emotion collide and crash heavily within himself as the thought was integrated into his body, as emotion was prone to do when thrown together without control.

Chaos watched them worship in different ways, bowing before altars, clasping their hands and bowing their heads, warfare in the name of heavenly glory, among other things. The emotions raged unhindered, creating so many different feelings at one time that any mortal would most likely collapse from sensory overload. Honestly though, past the emotion, Chaos didn't mind their worship of others, they didn't know any better after all. In a way, the mortal's worship wasn't totally misguided. The deities made up throughout mortal history all related to him in some way somehow.

Ultimate power, ultimate knowledge, ultimate wisdom, and everything in between could be applied to him. He was everything, time was a part of him and as was all the knowledge spouted by the mortals daily. He was everything, and when at last everything had collapsed, and nothing reigned in place of everything, Chaos would be reborn and the cycle would repeat, endlessly. It was his purpose, a purpose that would last forever.

Shifting his focus back down to the galaxy that Chaos was most fond of, The Milky Way Galaxy (That was what the mortals called it anyway), he gazed down upon his many descendants, all of which he knew by name and could describe in perfect detail. Their were his sons and daughters, then their sons and daughters, and then theirs, and theirs, and on and on. Olympus shined modestly, lacking its usually intimidating flair. It was still in the midst of reconstruction, with the girl leading the project working steadily to complete her work.

Annabeth Chase, quite the extrordanary piece of work she was. She was everything like his Great-great granddaughter Athena and more. Chaos watched as she directed the workers diligently and Chaos felt his being shift as emotions raged again, pride being the most outspoken of them. Chaos smiled, a rarity in and of itself, and then pushed his arm forward. A telepathic message flew away at an incomprehensible speed right into Annabeth's mind, blending in perfectly and leaving no hint of who had sent it. Chaos rarely interacted with any of his children, but he felt this was a special case and so made this the exception.

Chaos sat back, allowing his feelings of pride for Annabeth mix into the tornado of thought and feeling that roiled inside him like a rising hurricane. Then he simply watched as the Universe twirled infinitely, the perfect reflection of Chaos himself.


	2. Nyx

**II **

**NYX **

She was the perfect specimen.

Nyx was perfect in every way, no matter how one viewed her, she was perfect. She felt no jealousy, no envy, no pain. For she was perfect, and she was above such things as those petty emotions. As the other gods squabbled with each other over conflicts long past, she was above them in every way. Pulling the strings to serve her own ends, she twisted emotion and slipped in thoughts with such subtlety that the fools thought them their own. Her own siblings were merely her pawns to serve their purpose and be sacrificed, like pieces on a universal chess board. Yes, she was perfect, in every thing she did.

Oh, those other gods could argue about her opinions of herself all they wanted, about what perfection truly was and what it was to be perfect. They could argue that her own definition of perfection were different than others, but Nyx knew her idea of perfection was what everyone else thought deep down past all the lies and so called 'enlightenment'. Their opinions mattered not to Nyx, her opinion was all that mattered, and the other gods dared not speak out against her.

Some called her cruel, evil, or atrocious. Perhaps they were right, but if that was what was necessary to achieve just what Nyx had achieved then so be it. If manipulation was what she needed to do to get what she wanted, then so be it, it was worth it if it meant getting a step closer to what she truly wanted deep down in her dark heart. The very thought of it made a feeling of volcanic rage rear up in her chest all the way up into her throat, infusing her with vengeful power. NO! she was perfect! such feelings of longings were below her, and she knew it.

But that didn't stop the silent ache from going away, the feeling of loss in her chest that couldn't be filled no matter how much power and grandeur she hoarded, it always remained. She refused to acknowledge it, refused to believe that their was truly something she was missing, something she had not yet discovered. She refused to believe, and she never would believe.

She was perfection given form.

Right?

000

Her husband, Erebos, came to her once and asked her if she wished to accompany him on a night in the mortal world. "A restaurant in New York," He asked, with a hopefulness that didn't suit him well considering his less than cheery appearance. "Its the hottest restaurant of the decade."

Nyx was silent for a long moment, staring at her oily husband with a look of barely concealed contempt. She brought a hand to her chest, and then forced a smile that housed nothing but fake sweetness and underlying feelings of disgust, "I am sorry my husband," she crooned with strained cheeriness. Erebos, however, seemed to gobble it up unflichingly. Nyx felt herself shudder in revulsion, "But I am afraid I will be busy tonight. Perhaps you could take our daughter with you." She gave him a dark look, masked under a layer of kind suggestion. Nyx felt an unknown feeling suddenly begin to arise in her chest as Erebos' expression became one of displeasure.

"I will see if she's available, Wife." Erebos sounded far from pleased at the mention their daughter, Hemera. This came as no surprise, Erebos had never loved Hemera. Then again, neither had Nyx loved her in the way a mother should. Without reason, Nyx felt a feeling of unexplainable sorrow slowly begin to roil in her gut. Surprised at the break in her usual wall of stoicism, Nyx banished the feeling, but still left a feeling of unease in her.

Erebos left then, and Nyx was left alone with jumbled thoughts.

000

She wasn't perfect.

The very thought made Nyx tremble in self loathing, feelings of disgust and hatred wracking her body endlessly. She hated herself, and buried her head in her hands. How long had it taken her to realize it? She looked up and stared at Hemera with a look of sorrow, and felt her hands tremble.

She hesitantly reached out with her hand to lightly cup Hemera's cheek, and felt a single tear roll down her cheek. She was surprised and quickly wiped the tear away, then whispered, "You're right, daughter. I am not perfect, for I have not been the perfect mother you've always needed." Nyx felt her throat constrict painfully, "I. . . I'm. . ."

"I know, mother," Hemera whispered back, "I know."

Then the two embraced, an embrace several thousand years in the making.

This was what Nyx had been missing all these years, for once the maw in her chest was filled.

_This_, she decided, was perfect.


	3. Aether

**III **

**AETHER**

Aether gazed about from the precipice of Olympus, watching the mortals shuffle about their day, not noticing the grand palaces floating just above them imposingly. Aether stood from his hunched position, and felt his baggy chiton rustle and shift as a previously nonexistent wind blew across him. With every step he took from the edge, his robes and hair constantly shifted as his own personal wind streaked around him. He used to think of it as an annoyance, but after so many years the wind god had become tolerant of it. He walked about the palace slowly, languidly, ignoring the minor gods and the many naiads who bowed their heads in respect to the protegenoi.

Aether moved past them all toward where he knew his sister was waiting for him impatiently. Hemera was never known for patience, and Aether hurried to meet her at their usual spot. Many could say that Aether was basically Hemera's father, mother, and brother what with how much he babied her daily. Hemera, of course, despised it but deep down Aether knew she loved him for how much he cared for her daily.

Aether doted on her, and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

The wind god stepped into a vibrant park area, where several naiads and minor gods enjoyed each other's company, laughing and prancing about playfully. Satyrs chased nymphs with lustful eyes, failing of course, while children trotted around curiously. Aether walked past them all, slightly acknowledging the immortals that stopped their play to honor him. He strode past several trees, into the middle of the park where a single bench sat in the very center. On the bench was a girl, twelve years old, dressed in regal white robes that clung to her tightly. Her dark hair was pinned up and her bright green eyes turned to him. They beamed at him, and suddenly Hemera was hugging Aether tightly.

Aether smiled softly and gently wrapped his arms around her small body. The wind god felt his usual protectiveness form in his gut as he stared down into the mass of hair pressed up against his chest. She looked so fragile, so much like glass, it was a wonder how she withstood the constant glares of her parents.

Parents. Erebos and Nyx.

Aether felt rage join his protectiveness, whirling together to form an overall hatred for his own parents. Those two didn't deserve the moniker of parents, they deserved the title neglectful bastards, and that was that. Erebos had despised Hemera ever since her birth. His father hated her light skin, her bubbly attitude, everything about her that didn't relate to Erebos and his precious darkness. He and Erebos had also never gotten along well either, and he rarely spoke to the man unless forced into the same room as him. Aether felt rage bubble up inside him at the thought of the dark man.

And Nyx? She was nothing but a manipulative witch with a misguided concept of perfection, pure and simple. Hemera must have sensed his suddenly foul mood, and pulled away with obvious concern. She stared at him with eyebrows knitted together, and her eyes shining with concern, "Is something wrong, Aether?"

Aether focused on her gaze, forcing a small smile for Hemera's benefit and shook his head, "No," Aether said reassuaringly, stepping toward her and leading her back to the small bench they always shared, "Only thinking of people."

"What kind of people?" Her gaze was cloudy and searching, looking for clues in his posture and his words. Aether cringed inwardly, being reminded once again that Hemera wasn't as naive as her appearance and speech would suggest. She'd likely already made a half dozen guesses in her head, and two of them were probably right. "It's no one you should be concerned about, Hemera," Aether said steadily, studiously avoiding her gaze. He always had been a bad liar, especially when his sister was concerned.

"You're thinking of mommy and daddy again, aren't you?" She asked, with a slight hint of accusation in her voice, "Aether, I am not a child." That statement didn't hold much weight considering her appearance.

"I know that," Aether said quickly as the two sat down on the bench, surrounded by nothing but silent trees, "But as your older brother, I can't help but be worried about you."

"What is their to be worried about?" She questioned with some bite, becoming defensive as her pride took over, "I can take care of myself."

"Don't lie to me, Hemera," Aether said, "I've heard the rumors and I know something is wong. How you hardly eat anything anymore, how you never talk to anyone, and how you mostly stay confined in your room. I know your thoughts about Nyx and Erebos are weighing down on you constantly, please let me help you!"

"I don't need help, and I am certainly not depressed." Aether noticed she winced at the mention of their parents, and his eyes were drawn to her face. She wasn't hiding her lack of food well, as her face had gotten noticeably thinner and hollower. Even gods needed food some times, and Hemera obviously wasn't getting what she needed.

"Hemera, please, be reasonable."

His sister glared at him coldly, "I am being reasonable," She stood abruptly and disappeared in sudden flash of light.

"Hemera!" Aether cried, to late, and buried his head in his hands. Damn him, damn his parents, damn everyone!

By the gods, he simply felt so _angry. _He wanted to destroy something, find some way to expel the anger exploding within him. He could not though, not if he wanted to stay out of trouble. Aether clenched his hands into fists, stood, and stormed off toward his palace as rage wore down his control the entire way.

000

The next time he saw Hemera was when Chaos' birthday was celebrated, as it was every year. Chaos didn't have a set date of birth of course, but they had to honor the creator of the Cosmos somehow, so the protogenoi had picked a day and called it Chaos' birthday. Attendance was mandatory by all no matter what the immortal's plans were, which meant Hemera and him would be forced to see each other again. It was bound to be awkward, and Aether didn't handle awkwardness well.

Despite his attempting to avoid her as best he could, he ended up closer to her than Aether had originally dreaded. It was during the middle of the celebration, and Aether was obscured by a crowd of immortals who were either drunk or on the brink of it, and he realized that Hemera was only a couple people away from him. Over the din of the crowds, he could hear Hemera's voice. She was talking to someone Aether couldn't see, and to see who it was, the wind god peeked through the break in the crowd to see she was talking to. He saw a hobo.

It obviously wasn't a normal hobo of course, it was undoubtably a god, that much was obvious. Aether recognized the greasy man instantly, and it quickly made the wind god nervous. It was his uncle, Tartaros, the god of nothing. As in, Tartaros was the patron of those who had no one or nothing in terms of possessions, like hobos, which explained the god's humble look. Aether didn't like that the man was talking to his sister. Tartaros was infamous for making sure people who had nothing stayed like that. Hemera didn't need any more loneliness than she already had, and Aether didn't want Tartaros to antagonize Hemera into closing herself off even more. Slowly, Aether shuffled a little closer toward Hemera, all the while keeping himself obscured from his sister.

"Don't be stubborn, girl," Aether heard Tartaros growl irratably as the wind god got closer. Tartaros shoved a plate laden with food toward the goddess, "Eat the damned food and stop acting like a teenager."

Hemera glared at Tartaros, angered by the rather unfriendly comparison, "I'm not hungry," She insisted heatedly, "And I am not acting like a school girl."

The God of Nothing merely scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Count to three."

"What?"

"Count. To. Three."

Hemera regarded the old god as if he were insane, "Why?"

"Just do it, girl."

"Fine!" Hemera growled, "One, two, three. Hap. . ."

Hemera was cut off by her stomach rumbling loudly, so much so that even Aether could hear it above the din of the celebrations around him. Hemera's skin turned as red as a lobster as she sheepishly placed a hand over her stomach while Tartaros looked on with a gloating look on his face, "But I'm not hungry," The god said mockingly, reiterating Hemera's own words back at her, "Admit it girl, you're starving yourself to death, or whatever it is that happens to us gods. Now eat the bloody food!"

Hemera winced while her stomach roiled again at the mention of food, "But I'm. . . I'm not. . . "

She was once again cut off as Tartaros shoved a piece of meat into the goddess' mouth. Hemera cried out in surprise, but swallowed the food when Tartaros removed his hand. Hemera forced the food down, and swallowed painfully. Once she'd finished, she sent a murderous glare toward her uncle. Tartaros simply shrugged unapolegetically, "Had to get you to eat something, and you are as stubborn as your mother."

The goddess frowned at the comparison, and then found her eyes being unwittingly drawn back to the platter of food. She suddenly realized just how much her stomach was bemoaning itself and looked back up at Tartaros, who had a wholly neutral look on his face, "Who put you up to this?"

The God of Nothing shook his head, "Doesn't matter, just make sure you eat or else they'll keep on hounding me all protective like."

"Was it Aether?"

The wind god suddenly felt uncomfortable as she said his name. No it hadn't been him, and it made him feel ashamed that he hadn't tried to help her more. Instead, he had decided to avoid her as she withered away. Aether cursed himself for his own selfishness. Meanwhile, Tartaros shook his head, "No, not him kid. Although he's just as concerned for you."

"Then who?"

Tartaros ignored the question, "Just make sure you eat what's on the plate," Then he disappeared from sight before Hemera could protest, leaving the plate of food sitting on the table only an inch from where he had been before. Then, after a moment of conflict, Hemera slowly reached forward and took a a juicy piece of meat from the plate, before popping it into her mouth. Seconds later, she was ravaging the plate like their was no tomorrow. Aether felt a smile alight his face and left the crowd until he was right behind his sister, who was so engrossed in her food that she didn't notice him. The wind god cleared his throat. Hemera stiffened and turned quickly, shrinking away in horror when she saw her brother, "Aether!" She squeaked.

Aether's smile broadened as he watched the juice from the meat dribble down her chin, "Enjoying your food, sister?"

Hemera gasped and vainly attempted to swipe the juice from her face without him noticing before giving up, "Br-br- brother, this is-isn't what it looks like," She stammered out. She was stopped, however, when Aether caught her up in a massive hug. Hemera gulped against her bother's shoulder.

"I don't see why you're so ashamed of this," He muttered in her ear.

"I thought you'd be disgusted of me," She whispered, "That you'd think I was weak."

"Of course not! I'm not like our mother and father, I've always been proud of you. It's only when you sink into these kinds of moods that you worry me."

Hemera sniffed lightly, "Why are they so cruel?"

"I don't know, but you'll always have me, and that's all that matters."

Hemera broke the hug and stared at him with a small smile, her eyes alight with small tears, "I love you, Aether."

"And I love you too sister."


	4. Tartaros

**IV**

**TARTAROS**

In the middle of New York, on a completely normal street, their was a completely normal looking hobo squatted down on the sidewalk with a small cup in front of the small blanket the hobo was currently squatting in. On his face was a look of neutrality, with not a greedy glint in his eye. The hobo was clothed in torn jeans and hoodie, typical garb for for the likes of him. One of the passerbyers stopped and sneered at the homeless man, throwing a used napkin in the man's face. The hobo didn't react.

Tartaros stared at the passing crowds emotionlessly, not bothering to beg for money that he didn't need. Even if he did, the people around here were so snobbish that they wouldn't spare him a penny. He scowled inwardly, these pathetic mortals clinging to their money like it was actually worth something. Their deaths were an inevitable, so what was the point of furthering one's own success when it was doomed to come tumbling down. Like every empire to ever live, these people would die and their riches would die with them. The same went for him, eventually he would become so forgotten that he would crumble to dust, it was simply the way things were, even for immortals. He had been the first, and one of the only gods to realize this truth, and thus he was made the God of Nothing.

Thus, he had was the patron of those who owned nothing, and had no one. That was why he chose the form he was currently in, as hobos were his personal favorite people. He enjoyed keeping people like that exactly as they were, miserable and alone. Many may have called him cruel, but in truth Tararos was simply keeping them from being consumed by their greed and avarice, he was enlongating their life more than anything else. It was to bad the other gods were incapable of understanding,

He snorted, _all wise and all knowing my ass! _

Staring around the street, his eyes fell on a posh looking woman who was sauntering down the street like she owned the place. Judging from her rich attire, that assumption was probably correct. Tartaros' eyes darkened and his face twisted into an ugly sneer. The God Of Nothing bowed his head in an attempt to hide his face under his mop of greasy black hair. He failed, as the posh woman stopped in front of him and regarded him with unconcealed disgust. Unable to hide himself without relying on his godly powers, he looked up and stared at her flatly. "Spare some change?" He rumbled hoarsely.

Her mouth turned down in a condesending frown, "Why do persist in degrading yourself among these mortals, _sister_."

She practically spat the word _brother_ like an insult. Tartaros didn't even bother to try and feel offended, "Why do you persist in being a total bitch, _sister._" If they were going to fight again, he might as well fight fire with fire.

The powerful aura around the woman flare angrily, and his sister narrowed her eyes hatefully, "You will treat me with respect," She snarled.

Tartaros, not at all intimidated, simply slumped against the buiding behind him. The people that passed the strange duo gave them more than a few strange glances, after all it wasn't every day an obviously loaded woman talked to a lowly homeless man. Tartaros ignored them and laid his head back against the building lazily, "No, Nyx," He replied.

Nyx huffed indignantly and crossed her arms, "You are such a pain, brother," She growled and stalked forward to lean against the wall next to him.

"The same could be said for you as well," The God of Nothing glanced at the goddess, "What are you doing here, are you avoidng Erebos again?"

"No, I am not! I do not need to hide from my weak husband, I am after all, perfect."

He rolled his eyes, "So. . . you are hiding from him. You always did hate dealing with familial issues. Most of which are your own fault."

Tartaros winced as Nyx smacked him on the back of his head, "It's not my fault you are all so flawed."

"Bah! Your misguided beliefs in perfection have irritated me the moment you made that your goal. Not to mention, you never shut up about it!"

"I have already achieved my goal, Tartaros. Unlike you, assuming you even have one."

"Hmph, well since you've apparently accomplished you goal, what's your new one?"

Nyx frowned, "I. . . am still thinking."

Tartaros scoffed, "But I thought you were perfect. Since when do perfect people not know the answer instantaneously."

Nyx smacked the back of his head again, "Silence," She hissed, "You could not possibly hope to understand."

"Do you want a definition?"

Nyx ignored him and instead stared out at the grimy streets and buildings, all of them crowded to the point of overflowing, "This place is disgusting," She muttered.

"Strange, I was just thinking that about you," Tartaros said amusedly, this time avoiding Nyx's blow, "What are you here for anyway?"

"My daughter is here, and I have something to say to her in private."

"You mean your half-blood daughter? What was here name, Shnia?"

Nyx nodded, "And just where is your son, brother?"

"Donovan? At Camp Half Blood. The boy is the complete opposite of me. Still though, he _is_ my son, and I help him when necessary. Which is rare mind you," Tartaros noted that a sliver of pride had dug its way into his voice.

Nyx curled her lip in faint amusement, "He's a blonde." And that was that.

They stayed in silence for several moments, which Tartaros didn't mind in the least. He could only handle a few minutes of conversation before Nyx's arrogant voice started to grate on his nerves. Nyx seemed to feel the same way, as she gave no indication when she suddenly left him by himself, fading back into the crowd. Tartaros didn't mind, he simply kicked back against the wall and allowed his feelings of poverty to overcome his senses.


	5. Uranus

**V **

**URANUS**

A/N: This story follows the myth that Aphrodite was born from Uranus' sperm. Weird.

Uranus wasn't a monster.

Being called a monster implied that he had done something horrible to someone or something. But he was innocent, he was no monster, and he was ready to stand behind his opinion in the face of disagreement. Perhaps he and his wife, along with his children, had disagreements in the past over certain things, but his decisions didn't make him a monster. Sure, he had thrown his. . . sons into the bowls of Tartarus where they had suffered. Those beings hadn't deserved to see the beauty of existence around them, and Uranus had made it so.

No, he wasn't a monster. He never would be.

He supposed he could be likened to Nyx in that way. People also said he unwilling and unable to see the obvious truth in front of him, like Nyx's belief in utter perfection. It was an unflattering comparison, one Uranus didn't condone in the least from anyone. Nyx was the most disliked of the primordials, always so arrogant and childish in her attempts to prove her superiority in every possible field. She was the gorgeous, was powerful, was intelligent. Yet still she hungered for more. Uranus had long since stopped trying to help her forget her quest for ultimate power, it was no use, Nyx was to far gone. He knew the other gods had given up on her as well, unwilling to try and help.

Hemera was to hurt to try and reach out to her spiteful and neglectful mother. Tartaros, the most apathetic of the primordials, showed no visible caring or concern for the woman in any way, even though they were siblings. Chronos simply watched Nyx's deterioration with sad, lamentful eyes. Aether despised his mother for hurting Hemera and ignoring him to much to care about her. Thalassa and Pontos were both to afraid of Nyx's wrath to speak to her voluntarily. His precious wife, Gaia, despised the woman with all her being. Erebos was totally ignorant of Nyx's hunger for power, or her detestation of him for that matter, and Ananke simply ignored her like Nyx was merely an unimportant bug.

It really was sad, how ripped apart their family was now, Uranus thought as he looked down upon his endless domain known as space. Before, Chaos had been their to end all conflicts in the family, but then he left to be a viewer in solitude and the the protogenoi broke away as a family. Their was constant strife between the protogenoi, brought forth because of time and differing beliefs. Like the Trojan War, for example.

Wow, what a war that had been. In the ten years of that war, none of the protogenoi could agree on anything much like their descendants. Nyx had led her own faction of the family in favor of the greeks, while his wife had led her faction in favor of the Trojans, with Uranus being on her side of course. It had come to the point that they had all seemed ready to duke it out against each other with the other gods on the battlefields of Troy, until Chaos himself came and calmed them all. Uranus had never been so relieved in his life than when the Nyx and Gaia reconciled their factions back together.

But nothing changed after that. Chaos hadn't tried to bring the family back together fully, and Uranus resented him for that. Chaos hadn't even tried to give them advice despite being all knowing, and instead had let time tear them all farther apart. Uranus closed his glowing eyes solemnly, it was like the Trojan War all over again, had been for a long time. Atleast their was one person in the Protogenoi that hadn't caused a problem with anyone else.

Aphrodite.

Yes, not many knew that she was truly a primordial and one of the most powerful goddesses' of the Olympians. It was to bad she had picked one of the weakest professions in the whole god buisness. He still remebered the day she was born like it was yesterday. . .

Uranus winced at the memory, and his hand instinctively went down to his midsection with a grimace on his face. By the gods, it was impossible to forget that day, especially since it was the day Gaia had turned on him and dethroned him with the help of his accursed son, Kronos.

That day, Kronos had decided to not even try to go for the face and instead went for everything below the belt. Then those got flung into the sea and from his seed came an exquisite creature that would come to be known as Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty. Uranus cringed, he'd managed to get everything back in order down south a couple years afterwards, but damn, had that day been bad. It took over two thousand years of counseling from some of the other primordials until he finally forgave Gaia for her transgression. And honestly, Uranus hadn't even been mad at the fact that he had lost the throne, Kronos or anyone else who wanted it could have it for all he had cared at the time. All Uranus had wanted at the time was Gaia back, but his own feelings had blocked him from doing so.

The primordial was just glad he and Gaia had managed to smooth out their relationship back to normal. Uranus wasn't about to let his marriage sink to the level of misery that Hera and Zeus had going for them, bleh. Speaking of Gaia, she was almost at his door, which was strange. Usually it was him who visited her everyday for Husband-Wife time, not the other way around. Curious, Uranus opened the door to his chambers just as she was about to knock.

Gaia still looked as beautiful as ever in her tree and grass colored dress, brown hair, large beautiful, brown eyes, and smiling lips. Before he could speak, Gaia had her arms thrown around his neck lovingly, and the star god felt like he was melting. When she finally let go, he stared at her with confusion, "What's the special occasion?" He asked, afraid that he had once again forgot their anniversary.

Gaia arched a perfect brow at him, "Does it need to be a special occasion for me to come see you, Uranus?"

"Well, no. But you never come up to my palace unless I ask you to."

She smiled again, and strode into the room, "Well, it is a special occasion if you must know," She said, "So, Happy Birthday!"

Uranus knitted his eyebrows together. By the gods, it was his birthday? He never remembered his birthday anymore, with it being so long ago, and no other gods really celebrated their birthdays either, considering how old they were, "We celebrate birthdays?"

Gaia smiled wider, "We do now."

"Do I get a cake?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yes, but first, we're going out to dinner. Fancy restaurant down in Paris, reservation too."

Uranus smiled at his wife, "You really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do."

Then Uranus took her arm and they teleported to the Earth. Afterward, Uranus looked back at that evening and couldn't help but smile so brightly the stars themselves smiled with him.


	6. Cronos

**VI **

**CRONOS **

The man was old, wearing a heavy coat and plain pants that did nothing to differentiate him from the crowd. He had a thick and long white beard and a cane that he leaned on only slightly. He walked slowly, purposefully, and then stopped, stepping to the side of the sidewalk so that he didn't block others behind him.

In front of him, a dirtied girl stared up at him with dull blue eyes, brushing her her dark and and grime caked bangs to the side, and gazed up with some fear at the tall old man. She was dressed in messy clothes, a simple dark shirt with dirtied shorts and ruined shoes. The perfect image of a street urchin, and Cronos felt his shoulders minutely sag underneath his heavy coat. With a small sigh, he smiled warmly down at the girl and said, "Hello there, may I ask your name?"

Politeness was always the key to an abandoned little girl's heart in place of scorn, and Cronos was more than willing to give her the kindness she needed. The little girl gulped, her eyes widened with anxiety and fear. Understandable, considering he was a total stranger to her. He could be anyone really, whether it be a killer or a rapist, she had no way of knowing, and so she chose not to reply. "It's alright," Cronos assured quickly, "I will not hurt you, I simply wish to know your name."

The little girl bowed her head submissively, as if fearing he would strike her if she looked him in the eyes. Cronos' wise eyes frowned slightly, wondering what had happened to this girl to permit such behavior. He already had an idea, and it was far to common in this present. The old god shuddered with revulsion. Then the girl spoke, "Kaily, sir," The girl seemed rather couth for her age, perhaps her time of loneliness had tempered her wild spirit, or perhaps she had been bred that way.

Cronos smiled wider, more to help the girl relax than anything else, "It's a pleasant to meet you Kaily. My name is Cronos."

The girl blinked, then abruptly blurted out, "You have a funny name."

She immediately squeaked and buried her head in her small arms, no doubt expecting some cross words from the God of Time, but instead she merely got a small chuckle, "Yes, it is a funny name isn't it?" Cronos replied, "I myself ponder its meaning as well."

The girl gave him a blank look, surprise evident underneath her confusion, and Cronos was then reminded that he was talking to an undereducated child, "Would you mind if I sit with you?"

Kaily hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded to to him. Slowly, Cronos lowered himself next to her and leaned against the building Kaily was next to. The two of them probably looked like family together, since Cronos didn't exactly look like the richest man in the world. The God of Time layed his cane across his lap and stared out ot the volumous amount of cars present on the street and the just as many bystanders, "Thank you, my dear. I was getting winded from walking with these tired bones of mind."

Kaily nodded mutely and brought her knees up to her chest, "How old are you?" She asked suddenly.

Cronos smiled lightly, "Very old, child. Far older than any number you could possibly think of."

She tilted her head curiously, looking a little amused at the idea, "Are you older than one hundred?" She asked.

"Way older than that, my dear."

"Two hundred?"

"Older than that?"

The girl seemed flabbergasted at the idea, and no doubt her imagination was practically running at the speed of light, "How are you so old, mister?"

"That's a good question, isn't it?" He said bemusedly. He honestly was rather surprised he was still here. He had largely been forgotten by the common man, save for a few believers. But time was constant, and he supposed he was as well.

Kaily looked at him with wide eyes. Cronos simply shrugged helplessly at her. "Do you have parents, my dear?" He asked suddenly, already knowing the answer before she said it.

The girl's eyes lowered painfully, her hands trembled slightly, "I don't have parents," She whispered mournfully. By the gods, the girl looked ready to throw up or hyperventilate.

Cronos nodded and put his hand on her fragile shoulder, "I apologize," He said, "I did not wish to sadden you."

Kaily tensed momentarily, then sagged against the wall, "It's okay," She murmured.

"Do you have any siblings you live with. Anyone at all?"

Her lips trembled, and Cronos winced, "No," The word sounded so tortured coming out of her mouth.

Cronos paused, then decided to forge on, "Well. . . would you like to live with me?"

She sniffed, and then looked at him with a dull sense of hope flickering across her eyes. Cronos almost laughed in joy, "Can I?"

"Yes, you can," Cronos replied, then almost collapsed when Kaily flung herself into his lap.

000

**Four months later**

Aether gazed at Kaily as she was gently flown through the air on a gust of wind created by him. The Wind God turned to look at Cronos, who was now dressed in a plain white Chiton and was leaning on a seven foot tall scythe. "Another one?"

The God of Time nodded slowly, "Yes, she is just like her."

Aether frowned at the god and crossed his arms, looking annoyed, "She'll never replace her, you know."

Cronos winced painfully at the memory of his late wife, and looked down sadly, "I can try, can't I. Besides, I'm helping these girls aren't I?"

"Not for the right reasons."

Aether then realised that he had stopped his wind and Kaily walked up to them, looking confused, "What's going on?" She asked, oblivious to the two's small argument.

Cronos forced a smile, and walked forward. He lightly patted the girl on the back in a leading manner, "It is nothing you need concern yourself with, my dear. Now, why don't you go play in your room."

She smiled ignorantly and agreed, skipping off to continue off and leave the gods in silence. The two stared at each other awkwardly, "I miss her," Cronos said.

"I know."

They didn't speak as they heard Kaily's giggles off in her room. At the sound, Cronos cringed, and tried not to remember. "I. . . I miss her, Aether."

The Wind God saw Chronos' face seemed to deform into a sagged and ancient face. He honestly looked as old as he actually was, several thousands years old, and his eyes faded back into sad memories, "I know," Aether replied, "I miss her to. We all miss her."

Cronos didn't reply, to absorbed in his wife to do so.


	7. Pontus

**VII, PONTUS**

Pontus wasn't sure how he'd gotten stuck in this situation. He was a busy man, people to meet and oceanic epidemics to solve, and he had no time to go on a fishing trip.

Had it simply been Poseidon asking him, he would have been open to refuse outright. But then Tartaros had joined in and never relented asking until the Water Primordial had finally caved. Now he was stuck on a rickety fishing boat with a rotted fishing pole in his hands hunched over with a stormy look on his face. Directly behind him, Poseidon, dressed in fisher's gear, was staring intently at the waters patiently, his hat tipped over his eyes to keep the sun out.

Tartaros was in between the two of them, dressed in ragged and torn jeans and a greasy, green jacket with a torn beanie on his sweaty, and matted hair. He was lain back with his pole handle clenched between his feet. They sat there in silence, Pontus restraining the urge to simply jump into the water and and evaporate away. Tartaros looked up slightly and looked up with lidded, lazy eyes, "You seem displeased, Pontus."

Pontus frowned and turned in the confined space, glaring moodily at the other primordial, "I am fine Tartaros."

Behind him, Poseidon snorted incredulosly, having obviously picked up on Pontus' mood earlier, which then prompted the Sea Primordial to throw an icy glare at the Olympian's back. Tartaros, meanwhile, chuckled bemusedly, and tipped his hat lower mockingly, "You really are such a buzzkill, Pontus. Even Nyx has more cheer than you do."

Pontus scowled, "Don't go there."

The God of Nothing blatantly ignored him, "After all, you both share the cheer of a half dead donkey. But hey, atleast you got the better second half than Nyx did."

Tartaros was then cut off by a large wave of water that smashed into him and rocked the boat. The wave avoided Poseidon and instead totally struck the hoboish fisher. Tartaros spat out water and glanced down triumphantly. He reached down and plucked a red fish from the bottom of the boat. He turned to Poseidon and smirked cheekily, holding up the fish in full view, "Ha! Pay up Seaweed brain."

The Olympian cursed, while Pontus simply buried his head in hands.

000

"What are we even fishing for?" Pontus wondered aloud, prompting Tartaros to send an amused glance at the primordial, "Two of us are gods of the seas, for Chaos' sake."

Poseidon smiled sharply, "Ah yes, but it's no fun if you summon the fish. You have to work for it, makes it more satisfying afterward."

"We're gods! How is catching fish supposed to make us feel satisfied?"

The sea Olympian frowned in disappointment at the Primordial, "I thought you would understand, being a sea god Pontus."

Tartaros laughed out loud, his voice echoing outward, "Please, Pontus hasn't stopped to enjoy the sea for years. He's to busy with his stupid buisness conglomerate or something."

"It is not stupid!" Pontus hissed angrily.

Tartaros laughed heartily, pulling his fishing line out of the water and then through it back out farther across the river. Poseidon looked at the two of them bemusedly, "What buisness does he lead?"

"A cellphone buisness," Pontus replied.

"A bankrupt cell phone buisness," Tartaros corrected.

"It is not bankrupt!"

The other primordial ignored him, "How did that even come about? You're a primordial for Chaos' sake, you can conjure money at a whim."

A stream of water shot up from the water and smashed into Tartaros' messy face. The God of Nothing spat into the water, "Mature, Pontus. How Thalassa stands you I will never know."

The Sea Primordial felt rage ignite in his chest at the mention of his wife. He knew Tartaros was simply trying to get to him, but he couldn't stop being reminded of her beautiful face that had a lonely look in her eyes, "Do not mention her," He barked angrily.

Poseidon looked back again with an annoyed look on his face. None of them noticed the entire river begin to churn heatedly, "Be calm, please," He said appeasingly, knowing that two arguing primordials was a very bad thing, "Their is no need to argue over this."

Pontus didn't acknowledge Poseidon's attempt to calm him, "Do not mention my wife," He repeated to Tartaros, who held his gaze steadily.

"Why not?" Tartaros taunted, "Afraid you'll realize that she is miserable with you, and you never return the love she feels for you?"

Another wave smashed down on the boat as Pontus stood angrily, eyes narrowed with dark fury, "Shut up," He snarled, "I don't need you to criticise the way I treat my wife."

Tartaros sneered mockingly, "Just stating facts Pontus, guess you just have trouble accepting the truth."

"Enough," Poseidon boomed, voice full of power. He knew that his power paled to the primordials, but he really didn't need a nuclear bomb exploding in his face, "Stop fighting!"

"Hold that thought, Poseidon," Tartaros growled, "I think Pontus here is about to explode."

It was true. Pontus' face had gone red with rage, and he had his fists clenched. His teeth clenched together painfully, and his shoulders shook. From not very far off, their was a massive roaring sound that overtook every sound in the jungle. Beasts of all kinds fled but Tartaros didn't flinch. Poseidon's skin paled, "What is that," He growled nervously.

"You might want to leave, now," Tartaros replied, "Thanks for the trip." It came across as an order, and Poseidon had no choice but to leave. Not that he was mad about it, he had no interest in getting caught in a primordial argument. It was just as Poseidon teleported that a massive wave that seemed to be made of the entire river came hurling down stream. Pontus glared at the other primordial with utter resentment.

Tartaros thew a half apologetic look at Pontus as he sat back down, eyeing the approaching wave wearily, "I suppose I deserve this for being such an asshole." Then the wave struck the boat, and utterly desintigrated the rickety vessel, throwing Tartaros several miles backward, skipping across the water like a flat stone. Pontus himself simply kept standing on the water the wave having completely avoided him. He let out a sharp breath, and disappeared from sight. Meanwhile, Tartaros surfaced on his back, "_Shit," _He hissed, and simply allowed himself to bob down the river.

000

Pontus was back in his penthouse, the one he usually lived in. Thalassa was seated on a love seat, legs folded under her and a book in her lap. Her beautiful face looked up at the sight of her incensed husband, a look of concern dominating flashing across her aqua eyes, "Husband?" She asked hesitantly, "What is wrong?"

Ponuts looked at her for a long moment, deciding if perhaps he should tell her as Tartaros' words came back at him with a vengeance.

_Why not? Afraid you'll realize she's miserable with you, and you never return the love she feels. _

His eyes lowered, and he didn't answer his wife. Instead, he simply walked past her to the bedroom. Thalassa stared at his back until he closed the door and she could no longer see him. Then she closed her eyes, and allowed her tears to stain the book's pages.


	8. Gaia

**VIII**

**GAIA **

Gaia wasn't sentimental usually, most time she could keep a straight face in the face of atrocities. No, she wasn't easily fazed, but as she looked upon the faces of her abandoned sons and daughters, she couldn't help but feel her heart break into smaller pieces with every moan of pain they uttered. All of them were still here save for a handful, the ones that had followed Kronos to war had been detained in. . . other ways. Atleast her Aipetus was still safe outside of Tartaros, he could live a life based on ignorance. One of her sons, Coeus, gave a gutteral growl from his cage and pressed his face to the bars toward her. Coeus was blind, one of the many punishments he recieved in Tartarus, but his intellect was still as sharp as ever. Coeus took a deep breath and then exhaled, "I smell earth," His sightless gaze focused on her, "Only one person. . . mother."

Gaia extended a hand and lightly brushed the titan's black hair through the bars of the cage. Coeus leant into her touch, letting out a rattling cough. The tremors that went through his body caused wounds to reopen in his face, sending ichor down his pallid visage. Gaia swiftly touched each cut and they healed instantly. The walls around her quaked slightly, and Gaia scowled angrily. Tartaros was watching her, and he certainly didn't appreciate her healing his inmates. She ignored him and instead continued lightly caressing her son's face, "Oh my dear son," She whispered lovingly, but with a tinge of sorrow, "I am sorry for the life I have doomed you to."

"Don't be," Coeus muttered as a thin trail of ichor trailed from his thin lips, "It is not your fault that we are in these cages. The Fates decreed we lose the first war, so we did. Do not blame yourselves for their choices."

"I still cannot help but feel responsible somehow. Seeing you all in these cages tears me apart, you know that don't you?"

Coeus gave a breathy chuckle, then winced as his chest seized up, "I am the Titan of Intellect mother, of course I know."

Gaia felt a tear run down her face. Quickly, she pressed her lips to her palm and then pressed it to Coeus' forehead. The Titan shuddered and slumped as power slid through his veins, filling him with energy and strength. Tartarus shook again, making Tartaros' disapproval clear. Gaia ignored him, "Goodbye my son," She said to Coeus, who nodded sleepily in return. She quickly left to find her other children.

Each Titan was housed in a different part of Tartarus, and Gaia had memorized every route by heart despite the maze corridors Tartarus was composed of. She visited them all in no real order, simply choosing a path. She healed them all, and while Tartaros clearly objected, he did nothing to stop her. Finally, when all the Titans had been visited, Gaia made one last stop to her last son.

Perhaps son wasn't the right word, but he had been created by her and that was all that mattered. Gaia cherished all of her creations. Uranus may deny his children, but she would never abandon them for as long as the Earth existed. She eventually found an immense pit of swirling storm clouds, and stepped right up to the edge. She kneeled and looked down into the black pit. Their was a flash of movement in the pit, and the storm clouds shifted and moved. "Typhon," She whispered down into the stormy pit, "My youngest son."

A low hiss echoed up from the pit, words in the fom of the snake's language.

_Mother. . . _

"Yes, I am here my son."

_I. . . I feel pain. _

Gaia flinched. Typhon was still of primitive mind after all these years. His thousands of years below Mount Saint Helen had taught him only immense pain, and had wiped away any knowledge outside of that pain. He only knew destruction, pain, and revenge. "I know, son. But please be strong for me. Can you do that for me, my son?"

_I don't know. . . I can try. _

"Good."

_. . . I hurt, mother. Why does it hurt? _

Gaia choked back a sob and tried to extend her healing magic to him, but it immediately ran into a thick magical barrier that dissolved her magic as it touched it. Gaia cursed furiously.

_Why am I here. . . All I wanted was to be free. . . Why did those people hurt me? _

Gaia hushed him, and tried to whisper loving words to him, but Typhon did not respond positvely to her words.

_ατελείωτες μίσος_. . . _Hated storms and endless pain. _

Gaia bowed her head sadly, and stood, knowing that Typhon was to wrapped up in his endless musings to respond to her anymore. She turned and slowly walked out of Tartarus, endless waves of bitterness tearing at her heart. When she left the pit, she saw a scruffy hobo squatting in front of the entrance, "Tartaros," She murmured to him.

"Gaia," He responded, "How did it go?"

She glared heatedly at him, "You already know," She snapped.

He nodded minutely, "Yeah, I do. And I can tell you that I don't appreciate you healing my prisoners."

"They are my children!"

"Uranus doesn't seem to think so."

Tartaros barely had time to blink before he was suddenly shot right out of the cavern and flew several miles until he landed directly into the Styx. Gaia let out a mad breath, and snapped her fingers. She was suddenly in her house, located on the precipie of a mountain. Uranus was already there waiting for her. Her husband gave her a questioning look, "Where have you been?"

"I was out visiting _our _children, if you must know."

He frowned, a flash of anger going through his eyes, "They are not. . ."

"Get out!"

Uranus scowled thunderously, and teleported away, leaving Gaia alone. The Earth Primordial threw herself into her bed and allowed her tears to finally fall. Miles away, the the earth shook with the force of her anger and sorrow.


	9. The Interlude

The Interlude

**Is this a way to get out of writing another chapter invoving the harder to write primordials? Pfffft. . . of course not.**

"Wait, that was the best plan you got from him?"

Pontus huffed and sent Tartaros an annoyed glance, but the God of Nothing ignored the Sea God and continued staring heatedly at Kronos, who also continued to obliviously explain his plan to his other fellow Titans, who listened carefully. Four primordials, Pontus, Tartaros, Gaia, and Nyx were collectively watching the Titans and their war preparation. The rise of the Titans and their war on humanity had been enough to the rouse the primordials from their apathy and they had all gathered together in different part of the United States to watch the war escalate.

Unfortunately, Pontus had gotten stuck with the two bickering siblings of Nyx and Tartaros and the teary eyed sniffs of Gaia as she saw her sons free from imprisonment. Pontus seemed to be only one to regard the war with a neutral outlook, and he found the other's emotional response annoying, "Quit whining," He growled angrily, "I'm trying to listen."

"He started it," Tartaros grumbled, "That plan has to be the worst plan I've ever heard. Gaia, did you breed Kronos to be this stupid?"

Tartaros promptly recieved a sharp rebuke in the form of a heavy smack on the back of the head, "Do not mock my sons," Gaia snapped, "You're just angry they got out."

"That's an understatement," Nyx muttered, "Ever since Kronos broke out, Tartaros never shut up about it. He whined about it for days on end."

"It's not my fault Zeus and Hades are so incompetent that they can't properly guard Tartaros! How those idiot Titans didn't simply walk out sooner is beyond me."

"Shut up," Pontus hissed. Tartaros crossed his arms and sulked.

They all looked back at Kronos, Hyperion, and Krios, who were all still planning strategy amongst themselves. Then another man strode into the room, dressed in an impeccably clean tuxedo and hair tied up in a pony tail. His scarred eyes were the only real indicator of just who the man really was, or perhaps man was not an accurate title.

"Prometheus," Gaia whispered, and she reached up to brush a tear from her eye, "By Chaos, he has so many scars."

"I didn't see you crying for me when Nyx attacked me a week ago," Tartaros grumbled, eyeing Prometheus with no small amout of annoyance.

"Probably because she doesn't like you," Nyx said, smirking at Tartaros as he scowled.

Pontus rolled his eyes at the three's childish antics, and instead continued to listen to the plan that Kronos was detailing to Prometheus, "We will lead fighting forces across every bridge and through every tunnel, and we will overwhelm the Demigods on every front."

"Brother," Prometheus replied, raising his hands appeasingly, "Perhaps we could attempt a more diplomatic approach in this war."

Kronos frowned, "Just what are you suggesting, brother?" Their was not a trace of respect for his brother in Kronos' voice.

"Soften them up, brother,"Prometheus clarified, "Then allow me to lead a diplomatic mission and speak with their leader. Perhaps I could attempt to force them to surrender under the agreement that they are to be spared by you and added to your new empire."

"A waste of time," Hyperion growled, "We could easily unleash the full force of our armies upon them and win within the day."

"Don't be so rash brother," Prometheus rebuked, "The Demigods are not so weak that they would break easily, especially with Percy Jackson on their side."

"Percy Jackson is weak, and he will be of no consequence."

"Not if things proceed as I have forseen them," Prometheus said, "At worse, Jackson will delay victory by several days."

"Then Typhon will destroy them," Kronos sneered, "The Olympians will be destroyed and they will be able to do nothing as Olympus is destroyed."

"Wait a minute," Tartaros interjected abruptly, "Is Prometheus a total idiot? What did he see that would make him think that Kronos would even have a chance of winning. What the hell did the Fates show him?"

"My son is not an idiot," Gaia rebuked, and then smacked Tartaros upside the head again.

"Ow!" He whined, then was immediately hit again by Pontus and Nyx, "Stop hitting me damnit."

"You started it," Nyx replied mockingly.

"Bah," Pontus snarled, "I can't watch this with you people here." He snapped his fingers and disappeared from sight.

"Ass," Tartaros mumbled.

"Agreed," Nyx said.

Gaia sighed in agreement and watched as her sons planned their way further into oblivion.

000

Chaos watched the war happening before his eyes, and grunted to himself. Slowly, he moved from his throne and proceeded to move between dimensions onto Earth. He took the form of a mortal and appeared on the beach of Camp Half-Blood, and then looked down the shoreline, seeing a small speck in the distance. He already knew who it was, but in order to keep up the facade, he slowly walked over to the person and saw that the girl, Silena, was stooped near the sea, looking out at the horizon fearfully. She didn't realize Choas was there until he was right behind her. She jumped, startled, "Who. . . who are you?"

Chaos smiled, "Only a friend," He looked down at her wrist, and noted the scythe charm hidden in her sleeve, "I'm surprised you've kept your spyhood a secret for so long."

She paled horribly,"What are you talking about? Who are you?"

He smiled comfortably, "Don't be ashamed, and by the way, you're a bad liar."

She looked on the verge of hyperventilating, "I. . . I. . . "

"Don't worry, no one's going to find out, not until the right time comes along. Still though, I have to say that you shouldn't be so ashamed of what your doing. It's for the right reasons." Silena opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it, eyes flecked with guilt.

"I just wanted everyone to survive, and I just wanted to keep Charlie alive." She said finally, her shoulders sagging with shame.

"Like I said, the right reasons," Chaos tilted his head and smirked at the girl, "Feel free to keep on doing what you're doing, and good luck."

He turned from her and began to walk away back down the shore, "Wait," She called, "What's your name?"

Chaos stopped and glanced back at her, "I suppose you could call me the Olympian's benefactor. Welp, see ya." He disappeared instantly before she could respond.

Her jaw stayed slack for several minute afterward.


	10. Erebus

**EREBUS **

Erebus was a God of Shadows, a man who could not be seen by any until he allowed it. It was a useful trait that he used on many occasions, whether it was hiding from his easily vexed wife, or secretly spying on those he refused to trust, his skills made him an expert in infiltration. But sometimes spying on someone made Erebus have to endure things he didn't want to see or hear, and this was one of those unfortunate times.

The Primordial of Shadows curled his lips in unmitigated disgust, practically radiating contempt as he looked down at the shriveling wretch before him. She didn't see him of course, but her hunched body was pointed in his direction, and he could clearly see her head leaning forward toward him, buried in her hands while her tears leaked down her fingers. An untouched tray of food sat next to the girl, already cold and practically inedible, but the girl made no move to even remove the food from her sight, she simply allowed it to stay and torture her longer.

Erebus wasn't sure how long he had been watching the girl before him, suffering through the constant pangs of hatred and vitriol. But for some reason, he stayed and watched her suffering. The Primordial made no move to help her; in fact, he did nothing at all except stand in the corner of the room with an irremovable sneer on his face. As a rule, Erebus despised weakness in all possible forms. He did not allow any cracks in his walls or any emotion to afflict him to the point where it inhibited him in any way. It was a code he had lived by since the first time he had realized what weakness was, and since then he had been a staunch oppressor of it.

He knew his son, Aether, did not agree with him in the slightest. But his son's opinion did little to sway Erebus' opinion, and he in turn viewed his son as weak and pitiless. It was the same for his daughter . . .

A sniffle interrupted his train of thought, and he immediately switched back attention to the girl. Rage consumed him at the girl's weakness, and without even thinking he lowered his cloak and appeared directly in the open, eyes black with anger and robes billowing with unholy power. He stormed up to the unaware girl and practically bellowed, "Stop crying!"

The girl's head snapped up and looked up at the dark figure in front of her with unveiled fear in her watery eyes, "Wha . . . ?

The crack of his hand against her cheek echoed through the room, a lasting sound that broke through the large silence that had filled the room. The girl flew back and smashed against the wall, causing cracks to spiral outward through the wall. She fell down onto her hands and knees, chest heaving with pain and tears. Golden blood dripped from cuts on her back and began to create a circle around her. Tears began to fall again, mixing with the blood, a sight that inflamed Erebus' already potent rage. He stormed forward and grabbed the girl by her hair, dragging a cry of pain from her mouth, "I said stop crying," He hissed angrily, glaring at the little droplets as they fell down her cheeks, "Or else I will remove them for you."

The girl opened her mouth, but then promptly closed it and sniffled, closing her eyes and ceasing her tears through sheer force of will. Erebus grunted and dropped her into her own blood, sniffing distastefully, "You're too weak to be a goddess, too weak to even exist. You are blight on this universe."

"I don't know what you're talking about," The girl whispered, tears beginning to brim over her eyes.

"Don't cry," Erebus warned harshly, raising his hand to hit her again.

"Please, stop," She cried, wiping away the tears and looking up at his black eyes with as much calm as she could muster in her current state.

"I despise weakness, girl," Erebus grunted, "In all its forms, what you are doing is blasphemy."

"I'm just crying," She objected, but the strength wasn't there.

"You are not strong," Erebus hissed, "You have no conviction; I can see you were never correctly taught this lesson."

"I have been," The girl murmured, her voice sounding haunted, "My father tried, but I never learned to be like him."

The God of Darkness' eyes blackened with anger, but he made no move to strike the girl, "Indeed," He muttered, "You have not learned at all."

He looked over at the platter of food and extended a hand. The platter came racing to him and he placed it in front of the girl, "This is the source of your weakness," He said, "Eat it, now."

The girl's visage twisted into a look of disgust, "I don't eat anymore, and it's cold."

The slap was totally unexpected, and her head rocked back against the wall, "You do not question me. You must learn to be strong, and I will not tolerate failure."

"But I don't want to," The Goddess protested, the smallest sliver of conviction entering her voice.

Erebus grabbed her neck and pulled her up to his eyes level, "You will not resist, little girl," He spat, "You will do as you are told."

His words took a moment to register in the girl's mind, but when they did, Erebus could plainly see the spark and anger and pain in her eyes. Angrily, she wrestled herself from his admittedly weak grip and stood straight, the redness leaving her eyes replaced by total rage. "I won't do it," She repeated, but this time with real strength in her voice.

Erebus attempted to slap her again, but she suddenly dodged and kicked at him, landing a solid blow to his chest. The kick did nothing to faze the Shadow God, but even so, it gave him pause. Slowly, he retreated from her, and just as slowly he regarded the girl with in a new light, "Hmph," He grunted, sounding satisfied, "Perhaps you're not so hopeless after all." He flicked a finger, and immediately the wounds on her back healed.

The girl furrowed her brow in confusion, "What are you . . .?"

Erebus retreated further from her, snapping his fingers and materializing a plate of fresh food on her bed, "You do remember strength, then. Do not cave again, or I will be back to smack the lesson back into you . . . daughter.

Hemera looked back at her father silently, and didn't respond, showing no emotion. Erebus grunted his approval and disappeared. Hemera walked over to the plate and took a grape, hesitantly putting it into her mouth. She nodded slightly, "Thank you father . . . I think." 


End file.
